Sad Truths
by Counter Spark
Summary: It’s been months since the Cure fiasco and the destruction of Worthington Labs, but Angel senses something strange is afoot when he steadily starts to lose his powers. Reluctantly, he asks for help from the only person he’s ever learned to trust...her.
1. The Rooftop

**Title: **Sad Truths

**Author: **Counter Spark

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the X-Men movies. Trust me, if I did Angel would've been in more than a combined three minutes.

**Summary: **It's been months since the Cure fiasco and the destruction of Worthington Labs, but Angel senses something strange is afoot when he wakes up in the middle of the forest, steadily losing his powers. Reluctantly, he asks for help from the only person he's ever learned to trust...her. Angel/Storm

**A/N: **This is post-X3, so it's up to date as possible. With that said, on with the literature!

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"Professor Storm?"

Slowly and reluctantly she came out of the dream, fluttering open her dark eyes and taking in the all-too-familiar landscape of Professor Xavier's old, roomy classroom; the rich smell of vanilla and freshly-picked begonias hitting her like a ton of bricks, reminding her that she was where she wanted to be. She was home.

Immediately she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, embarrassed above all things that she fell asleep. And at a time like this! She self-consciously ran a tired hand through her flyaway white hair, hoping that at least she didn't _look_ like a wreck. Because she most certainly felt like one, not only from the crazy dream but also from the lack of sleep itself. But alas, these were things to be addressed at a different time. Not when your entire class is staring at you, amazed that you have the uncanny ability to fall asleep during your own lecture.

Had she only drifted off for seconds? The dream had felt like an eternity. "Oh, yes," she groaned, playfully smacking herself on the head. "Almost forgot. I'm teaching a class." The students sniggered under their breath, half of them wanting to laugh, the other half still too befuddled at her sudden siesta to muster a chuckle. "Although you've gotta admit, falling asleep while standing up is quite a feat."

That loosened them up enough. Enough to give her a couple seconds to recall just what that dream had been about; that vivid, crazy dream. All she could remember was the wind in her hair...and then it was slowly coming back. This was a mystery indeed...one that _needed_ to wait for later, for the class had once again dwindled down into a spacey and uncomfortable silence.

"So, before that quick little catnap...what were we talking about? Bobby?" She narrowed her eyes in curiosity at the wide-jawed boy, whose attention wavered like a distracted toddler.

But impressively, he knew exactly what they had been talking about, and the sharpness in his blue eyes made him look direly serious, as though he somehow knew what she had been dreaming of. Like he was reading her mind. _Too bad he's not a physic, _Storm reminded herself with a sigh of relief. _Don't get yourself in a tizzy, Storm. _"We were discussing the recent phenomena of scientific interference with the mutant gene."

_Sharp today, isn't he? _"Ah, yes. Thank you very much, Bobby. You picked a good day to knock the ice out of your ears and listen." Storm gave him a cross look and continued with the lecture.

But even as she launched once more into the terribly descriptive lecture of scientific meddling with mutants (there was actually a mutant who lived in Idaho who was torn to pieces by a lunatic scientist searching for the right strand of DNA), she couldn't help occasionally coming back to that five second dream that had lasted like a lifetime in her head. True, she would have to piece it together later, but right now she had to hold on to the only thing she could remember at the moment, which was how wonderful the wind had felt against her face.

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He stood slumped outside of her classroom with his wings backed up against the wall, arms folded in impatience. Why he had to wait on her for permission to do anything around here was a mystery, but he recognized the fact that, as much as he hated to admit it, he was most definitely under her authority. And she could also most definitely kick his ass. And until that changed, he was going to have to ask her for permission to do petty little things like leave the school...it was just another of the many sad truths.

Closing his eyes, Warren heard the soft click of cowboy boots growing closer and closer in the emptied hallway; the boots that could only belong to one person, for only one person at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters had the fashion sense and the bravado to wear snake skin boots yearlong- Logan. Warren inwardly groaned as the sound of him approaching stopped, and he could tell he was standing right there next to him, probably snarling and smirking like the dog he was. "Logan," he muttered icily, avoiding eye contact.

He could hear him chuckle. "Ay, kid. What's up with you, leaning against the wall and gettin' your feathers all riled?" Warren grimaced as the smell of acrid smoke filled his nostrils. "Looks like you need a smoke, Angel."

Warren finally decided it wise to make eye contact with the man, for true, Wolverine was a dick but he was still deadly, and the best way to get on his good side was to give him some attention. He was a sucker for it. Twisting his lips into a curt smile, he held out his hand. "Light me up, then." Patiently he waited until Logan slipped him a slim between his long fingers. "And don't call me kid." Angel closed his eyes and took a long, bitter puff. He hadn't smoked for ages, but it still felt oddly soothing, like coming home.

"As long as you're new here, I'm calling you kid...Kid." Logan laughed lightly to himself and pressed on. "So what's getting you down? Ladies aren't into the idea of gettin' swept off their feet by you? Hell, I figured you have groupies by now."

Warren sighed heavily. "It's more like I'm an amusement park ride than you know, a person."

Logan opened his mouth and released a steady flow of gray smoke almost directly in Warren's face, acting as though he didn't notice. He smiled frankly. "Well, don't get into all that emotional bullshit. If a girl's willing, then she's willing, if you know what I mean. That's what I say."

For the first time Angel cracked into a reluctant smile and added wryly, "That's wonderful, Wolverine." _Why I don't always come to you for advice is a mystery to me, _he thought.

Their sweet little conversation was cut short as Storm's class ended and a steady stream of children came funneling out, the first of them not even bothering to open the door- she just walked through. Angel nearly jumped. _It's going to be awhile before I get completely used to this place._

Logan laughed at him. "Jumpy little bird, aren't we?"

Warren was about to show him his fisticuffs before he saw Storm sauntering out of the classroom, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the both of them. He couldn't really get on her bad side now, considering he was about to ask her a favor.

"And what are you two doing out here polluting us all with your secondhand smoke?"

Warren folded his arms and looked at her tersely. Yes, she was a beautiful woman, but she had quite the tongue on her. And he had also come to learn that she loved lording her power over him, so he had to be apt in his words and not fall for her sex-kitten act. _Well, maybe it's not an act. But I'm still not falling for it. _

Logan spoke. "Angel here's having some lady trouble. Thinks that girls are only into him for his wings."

Warren opened his mouth in protest, blushing furiously. "T-That's not it, Storm-"

"That's Professor Storm to you, kid!" Logan looked like the circus had just come to town. _Too bad he doesn't know he's their main freak, _Warren thought angrily.

She was starting to look highly amused. Someone had to put a stop to this. "No, Storm, listen to me, the lesser of the two dicks." Flashing Wolverine the darkest look he could muster, he continued when he had her full attention.

"Yes?"

"I was just going to ask you if I could skip out of training today and go for a fly. I've got-"

"Errands to run?" Logan smirked. "Old ladies would have a coronary if they saw you in the supermarket."

This time Storm flashed him a nasty look. Needless to say, he shut up. "Continue, Warren."

He thanked her quickly and continued. "I actually have some things I have to do. People to visit."

She regarded him with suspicion shining in her dark, shadowy eyes that reminded him so much of something Egyptian. Maybe a minx. "You know I can't do this often. If I let you skip, I'll have Kitty and Bobby all over me, you know."

"Well, not exactly Kitty. She might be all _through _you..." Logan added, index finger pointed for effect.

"Logan, shut up! You are so..." Storm paused, searching for the right words.

"Childish, immature, annoying, yes, yes, I've heard it all. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but it's the way I was made."

Angel closed his eyes in annoyance and willed himself to focus all his attention on Storm's answer. It was starting to look as though she were relenting before Wolverine opened that mouth of his. At length, she gained her wits again and continued, hope flaring up in Warren that she would let him go, just this once. _God, this feels like I'm a child all over again, accept this time my mom is really, really hot. _Warren silently scolded himself for thinking that. Funny enough, it was then, as he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice, that Rosa, one of the school's more advanced physics, strolled by the three of them, sniggering as she read that thought. If he _had_ noticed, he probably would've had a stroke.

"As I was saying, I can't do this often, Warren, so be thankful I'm in a good mood today, all right?" Slowly she looked in his eyes, flashing him the kindest of smiles. Warren, as much as he hated to admit it, respected the hell out of her, although he did resent the fact that he was still under her authority. But at least she was nice about it. He didn't even want to begin to imagine a school run by Logan. "Thanks," he said.

But as Angel stood there gazing into the young professor's entrancing eyes, he thought he saw the slightest traces of blue flesh underneath; signs of weariness, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to lift the heavy burden of the school off of her shoulders and let her rest. Besides, most other women her age were out on the club circuit having the time of their lives. Lord knows she could reel in any man she wanted. But here she was, trapped in this building, much like he had been trapped in his home the majority of his life, too scared to step a foot outside. It was then that he had an overwhelming urge to bed her.

But he hid this desire very well and proceeded in taking another puff of his cigarette. "So I guess I'll be seeing you two later." He looked back at Storm and held out his hands in caution. "And don't worry, I'll be back by six. That's the curfew right?"

"You got it," she grinned. "Just hurry back. I don't want to be stuck with this buffoon for too long."

Angel was turning the corner before he could hear Wolverine's retaliation, in which he guessed would be splashed with not only profanity but with interesting and colorful usage of it as well. Sometimes he got jealous of the bond those two shared, but he figured it was something he'd have to get over. And even though he hated to admit it, he had a feeling they'd get together one day. I mean, who else was left between all of them? He sighed as he ascended the marble steps to the roof.

He would forget it all in the sky.

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"Where you headed, pretty lady?" Logan asked her as she turned her back on him, heading after Angel. "No point in chasing that boy. He's probably halfway to the Prime Meridian by now."

Storm looked back at him as she jogged lightly down the hallway, approaching the steps. "I think I can catch him. I've got to tell him something, if you must know." She flashed him a spiteful glance as she ascended the winding, marble steps that led to the roof.

"Nice seein' you, too, Storm!" He called out sarcastically, waving at her retreating back. As she disappeared from sight, he stole another long puff of his cigarette and grunted under his breath. "Women. Can't live with them, can't live...with them." Laughing uproariously to himself, he stomped out his cig on the clean tile floor and headed towards the lunch hall.

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As she busted open the door that led to the roof, she was more than relieved to see him standing on the very edge of the roof, about to take flight, wings outstretched to their full miraculous length. Luckily, she had caught him in time, and, smiling, she called out his name. "Warren?"

He snapped his head around and looked at her with wide blue eyes, as though embarrassed. As though she had caught him at a personal time. But he covered it up well enough and fixed on his crooked smile; a smile she could see straight through. But at least he was giving trying to look happy a valiant effort, although sometimes she wished she knew why he was so unsure of himself. Probably had something to do with his upbringing, being labeled as a freak and whatnot. She could relate, unfortunately. He opened his mouth reluctantly. "Something up, Storm?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure we were absolutely clear, you know, on six o' clock." She watched with wide eyes as he turned to face her completely, suddenly feeling as though she understood why he had looked so intruded upon. She could see the tattered remains of his shirt, which he had probably destroyed opening up his wings, flying away in the breeze as he stood before her shirtless; arms folded as they always seemed to be when she was in his presence. "You see," she continued, "it's not like I'm _trying_ to treat you like a child-"

"Oh, I know," he said, furrowing his eyebrows and looking to the side, out towards Alkali Lake, which was glittering brilliantly in the hot, summer sun. Storm could see something in his eyes...something that resembled distraction. "Lots of danger and whatnot. Mutant persecution, blah-blah."

A strong gust of wind rushed over the two of them, tousling his blonde hair in the sudden updraft. As she gazed upon him in that moment, she suddenly realized how fitting the title 'Angel' was for himHe looked ethereal...like a Roman god. _What a beautiful creature, _she thought, bemused at how she had gone so long without realizing. Clearing her throat, she responded. "Yes, there is that. But truly, Warren, the way things are right now, if a human saw you just swooping overhead, they might get frightened and, I don't know, try to use you for shooting practice. Things are _that_ crazy." She felt surer of herself as the most real-looking smile spread on his face.

"Don't think I haven't been shot at before," he said, eyebrows raised.

"_No_!" Storm exclaimed, genuinely shocked, as she clapped a hand to her mouth. "You've been shot at? By whom?"

"You know, crazy old poachers who think I'm a bald eagle or something. Luckily enough, they're always too slow." The laid back way in which he spoke about narrowly escaping a gunshot wound was eye-raising for Storm, who could hardly imagine being randomly attacked at by an ignorant, gun-toting human. But he didn't seem too ruffled by it, which she guessed was a good thing. She could tell he loved going out on his afternoon flies, and she couldn't really blame him. She knew from personal experience that there was nothing more exhilarating than being up in the air. Except for maybe battle. Or sex. And all three of those were excellent activities whenever you wanted to take your mind off of things.

"Which proves my point." Storm smiled warmly at him, and she was more than surprised that he smiled back, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall defenselessly to his side. _Good, we're getting some progress here, _she thought as she approached him with something in her hands. He didn't even tense up, like he usually did. "Here, I've got something for you." Opening up her palm, she showed him a minuscule, shiny black object that looked slightly like a dead cockroach.

His response was hard to read. "What is that?"

"It's a tracking device." His face went sour. "Now don't get shifty on me, Warren. I need you to wear this. Who knows what might happen out there?" Gingerly, she took his hand in hers and opened up his palm. "Please promise me that you'll wear it," she said lightly as she dropped the black device in the middle of opened hand.

She could hear that his breathing had gone shallow as well as the fact that he was refusing to look her straight in the eye. Storm guessed he wasn't really familiar with the human touch, seeing as how detached he had seemed to be when he first arrived at Xavier's. But she couldn't deny that school had loosened him up- at first he had locked himself in his room around the clock- but he was still a very reserved man, and trying to crack him out of his shell took as long as thawing a glacier. He swallowed hard. "I...promise." He looked up, and the sheer look of his piercing azure-blue eyes made her heart skip a beat. "But Storm, don't be worried. I will be back. At six. Like you said."

With the most gentle of touches, she closed his hand around the device and let her hand linger there on top of his. If anything, the poor man deserved to be touched by another. "Thanks, Warren. I really appreciate the cooperation. I mean, most people wouldn't be all right with this. And by most people, I mean Logan."

Angel laughed lightly and looked Storm straight in the eyes. "Well, I know you're already swamped with responsibility as it is. I don't want to create more problems, you know. So...it's nothing." A slight smile touched the corners of his lips.

She squeezed his hand in hers. "You're an angel."

"So I've been told."

They stood there for a couple of silent moments, his hand in hers. Storm couldn't believe that anyone would notice how much she busted her buns around here, and she was somewhat flattered that she was finally getting the recognition that she deserved. It seemed like everyone downplayed what hard work it was to run a school...I mean, she couldn't even remember the last time she genuinely had a good night's sleep. It seemed impossible, but a couple of months in Xavier's old position made her respect the late professor even more than she already did. And the fact that Warren noticed...it was sweet.

He started to tense up. "I uh- I should probably be on my way."

"Oh," she breathed, removing her hands from his, watching as he stuck the tiny tracking device to his black trousers. Storm took a step back, startled by the fact that he had actually let her touch him for that long. Usually he went beet red and tried to end the encounter as soon as possible. "You're right. Sorry for holding you up."

Warren shook his head. "It's nothing."

They looked at each other, both outlined in the golden rays of the sun.

"So...see you later, Warren."

"See you."

He turned his back on her and leaped off the edge of the building, dipping down and suddenly disappearing from view. For a moment Storm found herself genuinely afraid, that is until he appeared moments later, emerging into view and souring higher and higher into the blue sky, magnificent wings flapping and carrying him along the way. Storm imagined how good it must've felt, with the wind against your face like that.

And as he disappeared from view, becoming nothing more than a black dot in a sea of blue, she got the oddest feeling of deja-vu. As though she had been here before. But she shook off the feeling and turned back towards the building, feeling completely unprepared to lead the Training Class. _Maybe I'll let Logan teach today, _she thought as she walked down the cold, marble steps.

It was approximately 2:20 in the afternoon.

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**Next time: **Where's Angel going exactly? Will he be back by curfew? And what's Wolverine got to say about this whole situation? Find out in the next chapter of "Sad Truths"!

**A/N: **So that's chapter one for you! Yes, I feel like a pioneer for having written the very first (at least on this website) Storm/Angel story. But lemme tell you, things are going to start to happen, and soon. I'll keep it brief here and just tell you that I LOVE reviews, and that the more I get, the more motivated I'll become to please you all. So...you know...nudge...

-Counterspark


	2. Odd Occurances

Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own any mutants or the franchise for any said mutants. T'would be cool if I did. Then I'd be all like, "Hey, Angel, fly me to the moon." 

Thanks for the reviews: Seriously. I. Love. You.

A/N: Okay. How do I say this? All right, I'll be blunt- I have not updated this story in a very, very long time. As in seven months. I would explain myself, but trust me, if I get some reviews and I haven't completely dropped off the face of the earth (wink wink nudge nudge), this story will thrive and be updated regularly. TRUST ME. I explain myself more in depth at the bottom after this chapter, so if you are not satisfied, SCROLL. But please, have faith in me people, and enjoy this brand spanking new, shiny-as-ever chapter. Did I say I love you all?

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_This is wonderful_, Warren thought as a slight smile touched the corners of his lips. _This is absolutely wonderful_.

The wind crashed against him fiercely as he soared through the sunlit skies, dipping gracefully through the clouds and letting his wings carry him wherever he pleased. Sometimes the sheer force of the wind was tremendous- quite painful to be precise, but Warren didn't really mind. In fact, he had grown to love the strong, overpowering feeling of resistance as he fought the strongest of winds. It made him feel powerful.

It made him feel as though he had complete control, and well...he loved it.

He shuddered as he abruptly thought of how close he had actually come to losing this; never being able to glide through the heavens like a leaf on the wind, no one dictating where or what he did other than he himself- Warren Worthington III. In essence, this, the flying...it seemed like the only thing he had control over. And to imagine, he almost let his Father of all people take it away from him!

_What a joke_, he thought casually, swooping swiftly between two large elm trees as the harsh wind blew through his blonde hair. But the truth was, for a long time, that his 'affliction' was nothing remotely close to funny.

The truth was that at one time in Warren's life, he had been more than willing to give up his wings.

The only thing he could possibly thank for getting him out of that horrendous lab was that twisted and pained feeling in his gut that some call 'instinct'. As soon as they had strapped him down (like an animal at that), he had gotten the most sickeningly nauseating knot in his stomach, and his wings automatically started to twist in their harness, begging him- pleading him to spare them with an animalistic sort of fervor. To let them carry him across the endless blue just one last time.

And when the doctor closed in on him, needle in hand, he found his eyes lingering towards that enormous glass window; the sky outstretched brilliantly before him, inviting him to escape his worldly woes and fly silently among the clouds. And it was then that he knew-right then and there-that, no matter what; he was not leaving that place without his wings. In essence, it was all he had.

When he broke those binding chains and crashed through the window of that confining, God-awful building, that was the second time Angel had ever in his life defied his father.

The first had been being born as a mutant.

_As though I could've controlled it_, he thought bemusedly as he flew quickly over the green, never-ending mass of Alkali Forest. _As if I wanted to be shunned for the majority of my adolescent life._

Lost in thought, he groaned to himself and took the familiar left turn at the deep and twisting ravine below him, casting his eyes up towards the close-gated neighborhood that loomed lushly ahead.

This was the way to his father's house. Warren frowned and swallowed the lump in his throat.

It was somewhat ridiculous, how perfect his old neighborhood looked. There were the neighbors of course; all of which were wealthy, beautiful, and way too social for their own good. He could see them from overhead, sitting in there tremendous backyards as fountains burst forth wonderful streams of water overhead. The plastic surgery-obsessed wives were bending over to water their massive gardens, the husbands watching their wives bending over with loopy smiles, sipping their champagnes. It was all very well and good indeed.

_Who would've known that less than ten houses down, a freak-child with wings spurting out of his back was living in seclusion_, Warren thought to himself and laughed. Come to think of it, he had to laugh. If he didn't, he would cry. And he did not want to cry. _Imagine what Logan would say if he saw that..._

Sighing heavily, he set his sights down onto the biggest home in the neighborhood, set aside slightly by a large, iron gate surrounding the entire premises; not only giving the Worthington family the privacy they deserved, but also warding off any unnecessary visitors who could perhaps waltz in and accidentally get an eye-full of the Worthington boy, half way through his wing-cleaning process. Warren visibly shuddered at the thought of being intruded upon like that, and he wouldn't put it far past anybody in this particular neighborhood to try and shoot him for looking so darn "scary". They could probably get away with it, too. _Call it self-defense_, he mused. After all, he was just an animal.

Gently, he let his wings carry him down discretely, trying to keep the majority of himself hidden by the masses of green foliage that surrounded the area. He could've sworn he saw a little, blonde girl staring at him slack-jawed with gum hanging out of her mouth, but he quickly cast his gaze away and enveloped himself completely within the scratchy shrubbery surrounding the premises of the neighborhood. The last thing he wanted to be was spotted, especially after that pinch with the poachers not too far back that he had told Storm about on the rooftop.

_Ah, Storm_. Instinctively he fingered the small, black tracking device on his pant leg and felt a wistful, yet somewhat sly, smile spring onto his lips.

_So she cares where I'm going?_ Warren quietly recalled the scene on the rooftop merely twenty minutes ago with a grin. The concern laced gently in her voice; it had all seemed so genuine...as if she really and truly cared about his well being.

He couldn't deny it; it was nice to be cared about. And by a beautiful woman? _Even better_, he smirked.

And the way that she had touched him, sending sparks through his body...her warm and gentle demeanor...it all seemed to good too be true. _Except that she probably does that with all of her students_, he thought, scolding himself. The last thing he wanted to do was make something out of nothing, especially with a woman such as Storm, and right now, Warren guessed that there was nothing there at all to get in a tizzy over, other than perhaps respect. And she probably respected everyone, right? _Most good-natured women do_, he noted, slightly abashed. And besides, she could choose any man she wanted. _Why on Earth would she choose me_? A small patch of shame settled quietly in his chest and he began to feel a tad pathetic, he couldn't deny.

Needless to say, all of these thoughts were very depressing, not to mention the fact that he was standing on the massive back porch of his father's luxurious estate, preparing himself for yet another seemingly pointless argument in which neither one of them would reach any form of understanding. Father wanted a normal son, and Warren wasn't having it. Simple.

But somehow, things were not nearly that simple. It was sad, but irreversibly true.

Heaving the most powerful of sighs, Warren tucked in his wings and reached out towards the doorknocker, ironically shaped like a gigantic bird. He brought it down against the wood three times.

The next thing he felt was something very cold and hard hitting him forcefully on the back of the head, and the odd sensation of something warm dripping slowly down his neck. Then- blackness.

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Storm was rudely and unexpectedly awakened from her deep slumber by the sound of someone banging loudly on her door, with such power and urgency that she nearly toppled out of her bed in haste, rushing over to the door and flinging it open in mere seconds.

She furrowed her brows as her heart fluttered worriedly in her chest. She stared in wonderment at the man before her, cigarette tipped in the corner of his smug grin. "Logan?"

The wolfish-looking man gazed at her with large eyes, eyebrows raised in some form of controlled amusement. A small, giddish laugh escaped from the corner of his mouth as he casually leaned against the door, smirking and taking a long and drawn-out puff of his cigarette as if something terribly funny was going on. He cleared his throat and repositioned on his feet. "And don't you look lovely?"

She studied him suspiciously and cocked her head in bemusement. "What's got you looking so sly?"

It was then that Storm realized she was quite cold.

Immediately, her tanned cheeks went burning-red; her dark eyes huge in pained embarrassment. Instinctively, she slapped Logan on the arm and squealed.

"Oh-!"

She slammed the door forcefully in his grinning face and rushed over to her overflowing bureau, clothes thrown in a heap atop it. _Wow, I'm reaching a new low_, she thought frantically as she threw her hands over her face in a pitiable form of defeat, gazing into her full-length mirror.

A half-naked woman in a revealing and low-cut nighty gazed back at her.

She had forgotten to dress.

"Oh dear God," she muttered to herself as she threw a massive woolen bath robe over her almost-nakedness, cinching the belt and shaking her head. _I can't believe this!_ With disgust, she could hear him laughing uproariously from behind the door, stamping his leather-clad feet on the tile floors. She groaned loudly. "I would advise you to stop laughing!" Storm shouted tersely as she slipped her arms through the heavy, warm sleeves.

But he was having a heyday. "And what are you gonna do, lady? I can't help being highly amused at the vision of _you_ in lingerie!"

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Logan!" She called out loudly. With shaking hands, she cinched her terry cloth belt in even tighter in one swift movement and stomped towards her door, swinging it open with more force than truly necessary and glaring at the man standing with arms crossed before her. "Would you care to hear?"

Wide eyed, he cleared his throat as he tried desperately to hide the fear etched all over his stubble-strewn face. "Sure it ain't nothing scary," he uttered with a snarl.

"Oh really? Care to be hit by a bolt of lightning the next time you go for a little joyride on your motorcycle? I'm sure it'll go great with your metalloid skeleton!"

He waved his hand at her. "I'll just regenerate."

She shook her head and extended her pointer finger, cutting him off. "Oh, I wasn't finished, Logan. I wouldn't give you a chance to regenerate. After the initial bolt of lightning, I would follow it with a tornado that would sweep away your precious bike-"

"Not my bike!"

She smiled. "Yes, your bike, Logan. Then, I would send a tidal wave your way, and well, you can imagine where that would lead..."

"All right, all right!" Logan crossed his arms and muttered in an undertone, "Well _shit_, that's the thanks I get, huh?" He groaned, flashing her the most sour of looks as he stole another puff from his cig.

Storm shook her head through the haze of cloudy smoke and looked at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Logan?" Studying him, she leaned against the door and waited eagerly for his answer. Part of her figured he had come here to gloat about the fact he had taught the training class for her (while she took her well-deserved nap) and now how, in his eyes, she 'owed him'. It would very Logan-like indeed.

Storm had to hand it to him; although he was one of the most powerful and deadly mutants she (or anyone for that matter) knew, he was quite the little brat. It was actually sort of cute, in an odd and somewhat peculiar way. But what came out of his mouth next sent a bolt of alarm up her spine.

Huffing, he shook his head like a little child and extracted yet another long puff of his slim, blowing smoke all over her. "It's 6:50, Storm. According to my calculations, your precious little angel was supposed to be back twenty minutes ago."

She gasped and automatically shook her head in disagreement. "No way, it can't be that late!" Her heart pounded tightly in her chest as she stared determinedly into Logan's sharp eyes. But there was almost no mischief in them- he was telling the truth. She knew it.

Logan leaned his head forward with an incredulous look written all over his scraggly face. "Why don't you check your clock before you call me a liar? Besides, I'd figured you'd be all over this, what with you practically _fawning_ over the kid!" This sent a defensive shock through Storm but she was too busy with other matters to notice it. Logan folded his arms and muttered, shaking his head, "Women, think they're on top of things."

Angrily, the dark-skinned woman ran back into her room and glanced at her clock. _Damnit, he's right_, she noted as she stared at the clock in disbelief. _It's 6:53_. She huffed. _Warren said he'd be back at six thirty._

"Are you sure he didn't come in? I know how little attention you pay to things that aren't Logan-related."

A pang of hurt seemed to flash across his face. "Woman, believe me. The kid's pretty easy to spot." Logan turned away from her and played with the slim between his long fingers. "He's late, sweetcakes."

She sighed and set a resolved and controlled look on her face. "Well, let me get changed and I'll see what I can do." Storm closed her eyes and turned towards her room.

Logan chuckled and leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe. "Sure I can't help ya with that?"

Framed by her bedroom door, Storm glared at him and slammed the door shut.

"_Damn_!"

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The two mutants were down in the control room in a matter of minutes, staring blankly at a blue screen that looked like Greek to Logan. "What the hell are we lookin' at, Ororo?"

She remained silent, eyes fixed on the bright, blue screen. After she could feel Logan's eyes on her, she replied with a quiet, "Wait."

"I will if you tell me what I'm waiting for!" The excited man shouted at her incredulously as he stomped his cigarette out on the clean, white-tiled floor, huffing like a child once again.

Storm hardly reacted, and with a fixed tone akin to a mother reprimanding their child, she spoke to him firmly. "We're waiting for the tracking signal I placed on Warren to show up on the screen. Right now it's loading."

Logan grumbled as he grabbed a seat and placed it beside her. "That's why I hate technology." He sat down. "You can't scare it into working faster, like you can humans."

"_Nice_," she said unenthusiastically as she typed some figures into the keyboard. "Here, it should be coming up right now."

Logan stole a glance at his watch. "Man, I'm gonna personally pummel that little bird if he's shooting the breeze at the local hangout spot." He groaned. "Not like he'd fit in well, what with the whole freak factor."

Storm sighed. "We're all freaks, Logan."

He chuckled slightly. "Well, some more than others if you catch my drift."

Angrily, she turned her chair towards him. "Why are you so mean to him? Why do you hate him?"

"I don't-"

Their conversation was cut short as a loud and obnoxious beeping noise pulsated throughout the small room, piercing their ears. Simultaneously, they both shot their hands over their throbbing eardrums.

"Shut that damn thing off!"

Storm quickly typed in a numeric code that stopped the beeping, staring at the screen in wonderment. As the beeping ceased, Logan quietly moved in from behind her to stare at the blue screen, now with a detailed map and a glowing, white dot placed in the middle of it.

He spoke. "...What does that mean?"

Storm stared at the map in disbelief, pausing for nearly a minute before she answered. "According to this, Warren is in the middle of Alkali Forest."

"Doing what?"

"Not moving...at all."

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Blearily, the angel opened his eyes and was immediately struck with a bolt of horrible pain, accompanied by piercing fear.

He stared upwards towards the hovering masses of leaves, the sun breaking through the small gaps in the canopy and glittering above him. He could not move.

Warren, through his fazed and foggy vision, couldn't make out anything beside him other than endless, stretching green.

Everything was green.

His wings were painfully crushed beneath him, and yet he couldn't shift at all to free them from his weight. He could feel warm wetness all over him, which he associated to be blood, especially surrounding his battered and groggy head.

Slowly, he tried to shout, but he didn't have the energy. No energy at all.

He thought of the school- the academy. Were they thinking about him? Were they worried about him?

_Is _she_ worried about me?_

He couldn't say, for his eyelids were falling heavily, and his consciousness wanted nothing more than to escape the horrible pain that was lancing through every fiber of his being.

As he slipped once more into darkness, he remained sprawled on the mossy forest floor, little golden glitters of the sunlight from above dancing on his skin.

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A/N: Wow. That took me nearly (configures number in head)...SEVEN MONTHS to update. Now that's chuckle-worthy. Seriously people, believe me. Let's say I went through a patch of...un-inspiration, plus general malaise towards the whole craft of writing. That, plus the fact that I've been trying to write about five other stories while having this one pushed to the back of my mind. AND I'm taking three AP classes at school. But, alas, a faithful reviewer reminded me about this little gem and I had to- HAD TO- update it and relive the plots I had woven through my head half a year ago. Pretty much I wrote the last half in an hour, the first half in a time period of those seven months. Somewhat sad, but at least I chucked it out! And trust me, if all of you haven't deserted me, I will continue this story with regular updates that won't get near the seven month time period. Yes, at the same time I am writing a Love Actually story (yes, that GLORIOUS British movie that I so helplessly adore) and a POTC story about my boy Ragetti, but trust me...I know where this is going, and my amazing typing skills will enable me to get my newest chapters to you quicker. (My GWAM is like...50...and yes, that was a keyboarding joke)

With that said, I love you all immensely, and Havana Girl, thank you for awakening me! LLA! (Long Live Angel). Review, my babies!


	3. Worries and Discoveries

**Disclaimer**: Ya got me. I own all of the X-Men. Even Jubilee. Heck, I don't even know who she is or what she does. But I own her. I was alive fifty-odd years ago when the comics were first created; I work under the alias of a teen as a government ploy. This, might I add, is sarcasm. Please don't sue me. 

**Thanks for the reviews**: I have a tremendous love for all of you and your wonderful insights. I mean it, too. Mhmmm.

**A/N**: Man, I don't even want to talk that much. I just want you to read this chapter. I said I'd get it out as fast as I could, and that's what I did. Hope you like it and all. Enjoy!

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Before Logan could slowly piece together everything in his head, she was already shooting out of the door with the wind behind her.

"Where do you think you're going, toots?"

Storm didn't bother to respond; if he didn't know, it was his own fault for being so daft. With her mind racing even faster than she was down the narrow corridor, she tried her best to apply logic to the situation...perhaps not everything was a sign of terror or something malicious afoot. Like Logan had said (and it was very rare of her to quote Logan), what if he was just shooting the breeze or merely taking a breather somewhere, mind far, far away from his promises and the academy itself. What if Warren had forgotten about the curfew she had informed him about on the rooftop; the black tracking device she had placed on him for the sole purpose of making sure he would be safe?

_But if that were the case_, she reasoned, _why would he be in the middle of the forest_? True, Warren's mutation gave him a sort of animalistic nature-like an exotic bird, she thought silently-but even with this said, she didn't reason that he'd be chatting it up with the local forest critters.

Out of habit, she turned the corner swiftly and began to bolt up the stairs, breath hitching and legs burning. With a sigh, she noted the fast-paced, heavy clopping of footsteps coming up quickly behind her, echoing through the staircase.

Logan.

"Will you slow down?" He shouted angrily as he tripped on the bottom step and swore.

"No time for it," she snapped, continuing her mad dash without a single glance back. Had she looked back, she would've seen a very pissed looking man clumsily making his way towards her with an look of death shining in his dark and shadowy eyes. She heard him grunt.

"Well, make time for it, sweetheart," he growled as he raced behind her. "Or at least tell me where the hell we're going."

A shot of surprise ran through Logan as he looked up to see Storm actually standing still on the top step, staring at him with a strange and unreadable expression that looked to be between disbelief and amusement. Her eyes were two huge orbs of utter disbelief "Where else would we be going?" She scoffed. "On second thought, what's the only thing in this entire building that's up this high?"

His face was blank for a moment- an expression that Storm found to be equally frustrating and hilarious- before the realization visibly hit him. _Sometimes he sure is awfully slow_, she noted with a smile.

He grinned widely. "The hangar! We're takin' the jet?"

She smirked. "Unless you feel like backtracking through the woods."

He chuckled a little and smiled, sharing a moment with Storm. They stood looking at each other for a couple of seconds before the adrenaline and the panic of the situation hit them once again.

Logan cleared his throat and furrowed his eyebrows angrily. "Well, what the hell are you waiting for, woman? Let's go find the kid!"

Storm animatedly rolled her eyes before turning around and presuming the mad dash down the long stretch of hallway that she had halted only moments earlier. She glanced back at Logan, her hair swinging in her eyes. "I hate it when you call me 'woman'."

He smirked, huffing and puffing. "Would you rather me call you 'girl'?" Storm didn't think it was possible, but his smirk grew even wider and more devious. "How about 'bitch'?"

"That's inappropriate," she said as she reached the door to the hangar, looking back at him, frowning. "And very unneeded."

"That's what I'm here for...," Storm watched a sort of evil delight come over his face, "...bitch."

Fury flashed in her veins. "Don't make me send a lightning bolt your way, Wolverine."

He chuckled as he reached the door, breathing loudly as he stood before her. "I'll believe that when I see it. Which is...never." He laughed at his own joke as he confidently folded his arms across his chest, reaching into his pocket for yet another pack of smokes. It seemed his supply was endless.

"Keep thinking that," she said lowly as she opened the door to the hangar, walking into the enormous, open space with the sleek, blue jet shining and glinting in the evening sun. "And by the way, I get to drive."

He snarled.

----------------------------------------------------

Hands wrapped tightly around the handles of the jet, Storm bit down roughly her lip and sighed.

They were midway there, the orange sun beginning it's slow descent into the massive hillside, before a pang of something awful hit Storm painfully in the chest. She didn't know exactly what it was, but it felt absolutely poisonous sitting inside of her, crawling up her entire being slowly and chillingly. It felt oddly akin to shame. How could she have been joking with Logan on the steps when something terrible could've been happening to Warren? But as she cast her eyes through the red and orange sky before her, she knew it was much more than that.

When she had been joking with Logan on the steps, part of her had been almost completely sure that nothing too serious could've happened to her winged friend. And that was so easy to believe inside the warm, protective barrier of the academy. It was so easy to think that everything was alright. But here she was in the real world, and she knew without a doubt that everything was far from alright.

Storm cast her eyes down on the blue screen below the control panel, hands gripping the smooth, black handles of the jet tightly. There he was, a glowing white dot, in the exact same location he had been thirty minutes earlier. It was so strange.

Part of her wondered what she would find in the forest, at that spot where the white dot stood unmoving. Would she even find Warren? It was possible the tracking device had simply fallen off of him while he was flying. Then this would all be a waste of time. He could've easily been at the academy at that very moment, wondering where the hell she was. _He could even be taking a nap for all I know._

But then she recalled the rooftop. He was too sincere a person-too kind of a person- to wade off her warning without a care and not strive to be back before the allotted time.

She remembered the wind tousling through his hair, his azure eyes piercing straight through her, as he made a promise to her that he would be back at six thirty. The way he had looked at her then told her that he would do all in his power to relieve her of any worry she could possibly muster about his safety. Storm knew he cared about her in that respect.

A slight smile touched the corners of her lips and a pang hit her heart. _I wish he cared about me in other respects..._

Quietly and to herself, Storm imagined being among the clouds, clinging to his bare back with the wind racing against her skin, feathers against her face, arms wrapped around him...his heartbeat in her ears. She smiled, and yet oddly felt like she had been there before.

She sat there grinning like a fool before she realized once again what was going on- why she was in this jet in the first place- and immediately gained her composure, throwing off whatever crazy romantic notions had been swimming in her head earlier. _What a silly time to be doing that_, she thought as a patch of red went to her cheeks. _When the man's life is in danger..._

"Why are you blushing, sweetcakes? Did the scale of my sexiness just hit you?" He took a long and conceited puff from his cigarette. "I knew it would eventually."

Storm ignored him and stared straight ahead into the looming Alkali Forest.

"Well aren't you Miss Serious over there?" Logan propped his legs up and yawned. "Don't tell me you're worried about the damn kid." He looked at her with wide eyes. "Are you?"

Storm spoke without emotion, eyes glued to the endless green ahead. "How can you ask that question?"

"What d'ya mean? You don't actually think something happened to him, do ya?" Logan stared at her incredulously, slim hanging out of his thin mouth. What happened next made him nearly fall out of his chair.

Storm turned to him, rage burning in her oh-so-dark eyes, speaking in a low tone of absolute fury. "What the hell is wrong with you, Logan? You know, if you didn't want to come along, nobody goddamned asked you."

Logan couldn't remember the last time Ororo had cursed like that. He furrowed his eyebrows at her, keeping his voice just as low as hers. "Well hell, Storm, I didn't know you'd get so worked up over nothing." He bored his eyes into her, and he knew that Storm could feel it. "Unless you're in love with the boy or something, which might I add, wouldn't be very wise of you-"

"Shut up, Logan!" She stamped her foot down hard on the floor of the jet, nearly making it shake with tremors. "I mean it! I am so sick and tired of you going on these jealous fits every time we talk about Warren." She turned to face him slowly. "Do you have something to be jealous about?"

He laughed and stole a puff of his cigarette. "Should I?"

Storm shook her head. "This is not a joking matter, Logan. Something is very wrong here."

"We'll see."

They sat in silence, the humongous mass of green looming threateningly ahead.

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The leaves and trees shook powerfully, the force of the jet sending shudders and waves of green throughout the massive forest. Storm quickly found a long stretch of brown before her- an ideal place to land- as she dipped the jet deeper and deeper into the treetops. She stole a glance at Logan, sitting with his arms crossed and staring blankly ahead with a sour look on his face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. _What an ass_, she thought. _What an absolute ass._

She couldn't deny it- she didn't even want to breath the same air as Logan at this point. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the fact that she, unfortunately and undoubtedly, needed him. Bears scared the shit out of her.

Not only that, she thought as she gently glided the jet down into the clear space of earth. _What if I need help with Warren_? It was a painful thought, but she had to consider the horrible possibility that Warren was deeply and seriously in trouble, whether he was merely unconscious or injured, or if indeed someone was there with Warren who perhaps was using him as bait. _I wouldn't put it past some people_, she considered. True, Magneto was now as powerless as ever, but she could easily think of a few people who wouldn't mind reigning terror upon her and her mutant friends. She frowned at herself as the jet carefully touched land. _How could anyone hurt Warren?_

It seemed almost blasphemous.

The loud noises of the jet ceased as it stood still and unmoving in the surroundings of the forest. Storm and Logan sat in silence for a few moments, the sounds of running water and chirping birds filling the empty space. Slowly and reluctantly, the both looked at each other. Logan spoke first.

"Well, are you gonna flash me the death look all day long or are we gettin' out?" He stamped out his cig on the impossibly clean floor. "Don't want to cause a forest fire," he chuckled, motioning to the ashy mess he had created with a loopy grin.

Storm glared at him crossly. "Just don't say anything you might regret." She started to stand up before casting another serious look at him. "And you'd better be helpful."

"Fine!" He shouted, throwing up his hands. "I'm already helpful anyway!"

Storm laughed. "Good one."

They both climbed out of the jet and looked carefully at there surroundings. Logan sighed. "Now where's the little bird at?"

Storm smirked. "I downloaded the digital map to my watch." She raised her watch to his leery eyes. "See?" The glowing white dot still sat in it's same spot, eerily still and not too far away from him. It still all looked like Greek to Logan.

"Shit, I sure don't get technology," he muttered, looking befuddled.

"Leave it to me, then. Here-" Storm pointed her finger straight ahead beyond a small and twisting brook. "According to this, he's that way, not too far." She punched him playfully on the arm. "Come on."

The two of them tracked through the woods, their feet crunching on the leaves below them. Storm looked behind at her hiking partner. "Do you smell anything, Logan? Can you hunt him down?"

He sniffed animatedly. "All I smell is moose shit."

Storm gasped, genuinely frightened. Logan smirked; it sure was rare to see her actually terrified. It was kind of hilarious.

"There aren't any moose back here, are there?"

Logan just raised his eyebrows and continued to walk.

"Logan!" Storm turned around to face him completely. "This isn't funny, and by the way, I'm still pissed at you, so don't..." She quit talking as a stunned and bewildered look that over Logan's normally composed face. He was almost gaping. "Logan, what's wrong?"

He looked blankly ahead. "Found him."

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Twisted leaves in blood-stained downy feathers, the dim and quickly falling sun glittering through the leaves in the canopy and shining on Warren, laying chillingly still and silent in a small pool of blood...it was horrific, and it made Storm's heart stop.

"Oh hell."

Immediately, Storm ran to his side and knelt beside the fallen angel, gently patting his dirty and bloody face. He was so pale. "Warren," she said quietly, tears shining in her eyes. "Warren, can you hear me?" She slowly raised his head.

_So much blood, _so_ much blood..._

"Logan, get the hell over here!" Her hands were trembling, already slick and sticky and red. "Where in God's name is all this blood coming from?" She was mumbling incoherently to herself as she held his limp head in her hands. It was then that she saw it. "Oh God..."

On the back of his head, mangled into his blonde hair, was a ghastly wound, small streams of blood running from it down his pale neck and onto his little bed of leaves. She looked over at Logan, who had an equally horrified look on his face. "Who did this to him?" Her voice was high and nearly hysterical, Warren's blood now dripping down his arms. "Who would do this to him?"

"Ororo, calm down..."

Storm was shocked by the serious quality in his voice.

"Keep your hand over that..._wound_. We can't let it bleed too much..."

Tears shining in her eyes, she nodded resolutely.

"Now we gotta get this kid back to the jet as soon as possible. Here-"

"Wait." Storm took a deep and shaky breath. "Have we checked his pulse?"

Their eyes met as Logan slowly brought two fingers tentatively to Warren's neck.

_Please have a pulse, please have a pulse, Oh dear God, please have a pulse..._

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**A/N:** YAY, I am so excited I can now move on to the next chapter- that's when things start to get bubbly. As in good. Hate to leave you at a cliff-hanger, it felt somewhat cliche of me, but what the hay. I should get the next chapter out before too long, so no seven month dry spells. I wish I had more to say than please oh please review, but nah. That's all I got. Please oh please review. I love you all.


	4. Feel

**Disclaimer**: Sigh. This is getting a tad repetitive. Don't sue me, etc. I own nothing. 

**Thanks for the reviews**: Once again, thanks a bundle. Truly appreciate it.

**A/N:** All right. I have never before been so excited by a single chapter I've written in my life than this one. Let's just say gears start turning and...ahem.,,other stuff. Once again, this chapter is mostly from Storm's perspective (seeing as how Warren is currently incapacitated), so hopefully that doesn't miff you too much. Yep. Nothing more to say. 'Cept read. And enjoy.

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Storm had been sitting there for hours, watching him sleep. He seemed so peaceful; so completely serene as he took small breaths in his deep slumber. It was almost as if nothing horrible or violent had befallen him at all...as if she hadn't stumbled upon him unconscious and bleeding all over the forest floor, twisted and red among the leaves.

_Oh, God..._

The image still haunted her, his delicate wings bent and broken as the orange, evening sun glowed upon his sickeningly disfigured form.

She had thought he was dead.

The moment Logan placed his fingers on his pale neck, searching for a pulse, Storm had a horrible sensation in the pit of her stomach that radiated painfully through her body...it was fear. She could hardly recall a time in her life when she had been that _frightened_, and she had been in many sticky situations in her lifetime. Battling mutant enemies, facing the hatred of the world and the exclusion of her peers...nothing had been more terrifying and jarring than that moment in the forest, with that almost assured knowledge that Warren was dead, and she would never be able to feel the wind against her face as she clung to his back, closing her eyes and feeling _alive_.

When Logan looked up with a small smile and sighed, Storm couldn't help but laugh, tears streaming down her face and sobs burning her ribs. He wasn't dead. Thank the Lord Almighty, he wasn't dead!

But even after the initial joy, the panic set in again, and she realized the sheer amount of blood on the surrounding leaves, the horrible gash on the back of his head...how cold he felt beneath her panicked fingertips. And then the alarm went off again, and her mind began to race once more, questions that couldn't be answered running around madly in her frazzled brain.

The first one being: _Who would do this?_

He was positioned on the leaves like some hunted-down animal, plucked from existence so cruelly and miserably. He seemed tossed aside, almost in an afterthought, no importance placed on where or why. No thought placed on his beautiful wings, now bent in odd positions beneath him. It looked horribly painful, and hatred brewed slowly inside of her as she tried to fathom who in the world could possibly do something of this caliber to someone so...

she had thought of the perfect word. _Someone so beautiful_.

Her heart had been screaming in dread, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she helped Logan carry him back to the jet, his blood dripping warmly and wetly onto her arms. She remembered the rooftop, the way his eyes completely bore through her and strangled her heart and made her want to _feel_.

It was at this moment that it hit her, back at the academy and in the cold, medical room the Jean Gray had spent so much of her time in. The way she had acted, the tears of joy for his survival, the dread and fear that pounced on her when she caught sight of him...the initial drive to look for him in the first place...it was all adding up, and finally the question of all questions popped up unexpectedly in her mind.

_Am I...in love with him?_

She couldn't deny the fact that she cared for him tremendously- in fact, she couldn't remember ever caring for anyone so much, except for maybe Professor Xavier or Logan (she shuddered at this but she couldn't deny it). But the care she had for Warren was slightly different.

And she also couldn't deny the fact that it wasn't as sudden as it seemed, this caring. True, it hadn't hit her until today, but she had had an eye on him before their moment on the rooftop. In fact, when he had first come into the academy looking lost and vulnerable with his eyes radiating more sadness than she thought existed, she had kept her attention him, noticing his timid nature and the amount of time he spent alone and in his room. She had brought it upon herself to coax him into coming out of his shell a bit, introducing him to other students and making him feel as though he were a part of the family. She could remember the time she had given him his own suit- black leather and form-fitting. A light had entered his eyes that was absolutely breath-taking, and she had to force down the gasp itching in her throat. He felt accepted. And ever since then, Warren was comfortable enough to let loose once in awhile- she was actually surprised to find he had a sharp and dry sense of humor and that he could make her laugh.

In fact, once they had actually dined together late one night (not alone though, he hadn't become _that _comfortable yet) and after a little bit of alcohol consumption, he had had her busting-out laughing about a tale that she couldn't exactly recall now, although she remembered it had something to do with a pregnant goat and a serial killer. _Hilarious_, she remembered, and her heart had been growing fonder and fonder of him the more and more he came out of his shell.

Yet, when they were alone, he became the shy, timid soul that he had walked into the academy as. It took some time to loosen him up, but he always started out with her tense and quiet. Why that was, she didn't know, but she longed for him to feel as though he could be nothing but himself around her. That's why the rooftop was such a big deal- he had opened up to her, told her he cared for her (not outright, but noticing her hard work and suggesting she get more rest was a well enough sign), and actually let her _touch_ him. It was a milestone, and as she watched him lying still in the peaceful grip of deep slumber, she realized that she now cared for him more than she ever had before. She didn't know if it was love, but he know held a place in her heart that she didn't know was there.

She stood up from her cold and stiff chair and approached his sleeping form, studying him in his stillness. Someone else had wiped all the blood from him (she had been too shaken up to do it) and now a large bandage was placed over the wound on his head. His hair had been wet and combed back sleek and blonde, perfectly neat except for the area surrounding his wound. Wings tucked in a comfortable position behind him, he looked angelic and striking beneath the harsh and bright light above him.

Blushing slightly, she noticed his lack of a shirt; purplish and bluish bruises adorning various parts of torso and arms. _God_, she thought, swallowing hard, _he's so_ _beautiful_.

Before she could stop herself, she could feel her hand drawing towards a particularly nasty-looking bruise on his hipbone. No longer was he ice cold and dead-feeling- a warm and radiating body heat pulsated beneath her fingertips. It sent shivers up her spine, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to be embraced in that heat, surrounded by it and held completely in it.

She wanted to scold herself for these thoughts, but it was far too late. She had already let them loose, and now they were running wild and unstoppable. Her eyes were finally drawn to his face- his glorious face- and she separately admired every feature and curve it held. The graceful jutting out and dip of his nose, his furrowed brow that gave him that look of emotion...his slightly open mouth, drawing in soft breaths as he slept. Her heart was racing, her mind running rampant...

Hand placed on his warm and smooth chest, his heartbeat beneath her fingers, she found herself leaning forward, dipping lower and lower until she found herself only centimeters from his face, where she could hear every small breath- where she could smell the leaves and pine-needles of the forest he'd been rescued from. Her other hand found the soft feathers of his wings, and she ran her fingers over them, feeling the soft downy feathers. There was no controlling her at this point, no logic entering her brain and telling her to get a hold of herself...

She closed her eyes and closed the gap between them until she felt his lips touch hers, and then she kissed his lower lip gently, then his upper one, then both at the same time. It felt amazing, and the gears inside of her that had been rusty for a long time began turning like wild, and she kissed him again near the crease of his mouth, then on the cheek, then on his eyelid, then once more on his lower lip, then...

He opened his eyes and she jumped away from him, eyes wide and shocked and frightened. Warren shifted a little as he looked up at her groggily and confused, brow furrowed. He seemed barely conscious. He closed his eyes and opened them again, opening his mouth slowly. "Storm?" His blue eyes slowly moved from side to side, then back to her.

She couldn't move, just staring at him and standing still and not knowing what the hell to do. She looked at the ground. "Warren, I don't know what I was doing, I-"

When she looked back up his eyes were closed again and he had drifted off into yet another deep sleep.

Resolutely and in a rush, she left the room.

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"Storm? Hey, Storm?" She awoke to the sound of powerful banging on her door. "Wake the hell up, your angel has awaken!"

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked towards the clock, the red, blockish numbers glowing '7:25 A.M.' in the darkness of her bedroom. She turned her face to the pillow once more and stretched, trying to remember the dream she had just been awoken from. Storm couldn't exactly recall what had happened in it, but the one thing that she could clearly remember was the refreshing feeling of wind on her face. Yawning loudly, she sat up cross-legged on her bed and drew forth the curtains to the window beside it, looking at the bluish tint and the near-invisible moon on the horizon and the whisperings of a sunrise making it's way through the withdrawing darkness. _I slept all night_, she thought with a smile as she stretched her arms above her head. Directly after this, the pounding on the door continued.

"Hey, are you comatose or something? Wake up!"

She turned her head towards the door. "I'm awake! You can shut up now!"

With a smile, Storm heard him groan and shift his feet. "Well, you can at least come and greet me. Or at least give me a 'congratulations' for actually waking up this early." He snickered. "You know, I'd only do this for a swell gal like you, and-"

Storm opened the door to greet him and noticed a far-too-large smile on his face. She pursed her lips. "What's got you grinning?" She asked sleepily.

It was then she looked down at herself and realized she was, once again, standing there in nothing more than a black, silk nighty cut unforgivable low. She could only muster up and grunt as she turned once more and shut herself inside her room, groggily going towards her bureau and retrieving a pair of jeans and a black tank top.

Logan couldn't stop laughing.

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They were walking down the hall towards the medical room when the knot appeared in her stomach and her throat went dry. Logan was chatting up about how chipper and refreshed he felt to be waking at such an hour (this was accompanied with sarcasm) when she remembered the night before and the fear that beheld her when he opened his eyes and spoke her name. She looked at her feet. Had the kiss been worth it though?

_Definitely_

She smiled sheepishly. Yet now, as she walked towards his room where he would be undoubtedly awake and conscious, she knew she'd have to accordingly deal with the consequences of her actions, which would probably be awkward and confused. She truly hoped that it didn't bother him too much...it would kill her if he felt violated or angry by it. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Hey, are you listenin' to me?"

Storm looked up at Logan and smiled. "Sorry, still a little tired."

"Well sleepyhead, I was just asking if you're excited to see your winged friend awake and alert this morning?"

She bit her lip and mustered up an answer. "Very excited."

They reached the door and Storm took a deep breath. Logan looked at her expectantly. "Well? He's in there."

Tentatively and sharing a glance with Logan, she walked through the automatic door and stepped inside.

Warren was sitting upright on the medical table fully clothed, wings behind him, and biting his lip as he looked up anxiously at Storm. He averted his eyes quickly, and Storm thought the worst.

_Why oh why did I have to kiss him...Why did I have to take our relationship back a whole notch?_

Warren looked up at Logan instead and smiled. "Good morning to you." Slowly and agonizing, his eyes went to her. "And you."

Logan, looking disinterested, pulled out a cigarette and lit it nonchalantly. "Don't greet me, she's the one who wanted to see you so bad."

A pink tint went to Warren's cheeks. "Oh-Oh really?"

Storm tried her best to act like nothing was odd or akimbo about the situation- just a friend speaking to another friend. _Another friend she's in love with_, she thought before hushing herself. "Yeah. I'm so glad you're okay, really Warren. You scared me last night." She smiled. "I'm so glad I put that tracking device on you..."

He looked up at her. "You saved my life."

They looked at each other for a moment, sharing a look, before Storm ripped her eyes away. "Oh, don't give me too much glory, standard procedure. I just have to know...what happened to you?"

She stood there, eyes fixed on him, not knowing what to expect yet expecting a tale of heroism and violence and wrongdoing and bravery and-

He looked absolutely clueless. "I...I don't remember."

Logan spoke at this. "Whaddya' mean you don't remember, kid?"

He looked at the ground, touching the bandage on the back of his head. "I don't remember anything before this morning." Warren brought his eyes on Storm again. "The last thing I remember is talking to you-"

"Oh, how sweet," Logan chirped.

"-And then I went flying-"

"Where were you going?" Storm blurted and stared at him expectantly. "You said you had people to visit."

Logan raised his eyebrows and forked his thumb at her. "Good memory on this one."

Warren and Storm ignored him and stared at each other widely. Warren shook his head. "I have no clue."

Before she could stop herself, Storm asked, "Do you remember anything from last night?"

Warren went pink again. "Uh...not really...I was asleep." He went even redder. "I mean, I had an odd dream..." His eyes found the floor. "But other than that, no."

Logan furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What kind of question was that?"

She blushed. "I meant last evening, when we found him in the forest," she was lying through her teeth.

Logan made an odd face. "Because everyone remembers things when they're unconscious," he said dryly, take a puff of his cigarette and shaking his head. "Are you always like this early in the morning?"

She looked at him crossly. "_Shut up_."

He snorted at her and smiled. "Anyway," he said, ripping his eyes away from her, "the kid can't remember where he was flying, so that leaves the question...where would he fly?" He narrowed his eyes at Warren.

"Oh...well...I fly plenty of places..."

"But," Logan started with an rare air of intelligence, "you stated you had 'errands to run'. This wasn't just your everyday cruise now, was it?"

Storm chuckled slightly and crossed her arms. "Wow, good memory on this one."

Warren laughed under his breath, which felt reassuring and comforting. Logan turned his head to her slowly. "_Shut up_."

Storm stuck her tongue out at him.

Warren spoke next. "The only person I really have to visit is my father..."

Storm's heart burned at this. _The only person..._

"...but I can't say for sure that I was flying there." He winced slightly, so slightly that Storm felt confident that only she noticed, and fingered the bandage on the back of his head. "I don't remember anything."

Logan sighed and shook his head. "Well, who's to say anyone's even involved in this at all? Hell, the kid could've just fallen from the sky as far as we know!"

Storm shook her head resolutely. "No. That's not possible. It doesn't explain the wound on the back of his head."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Could've hit a tree on the way down. There's a lot of those in forests, trees." He took another conceited breath from his slim, turning his focus towards Warren. "Did you fall asleep midair?"

He blinked slowly and looked at the ground. "That's never happened before-"

"Well, there's always a first time for everything, kid."

"Logan," Storm interrupted. "That's hardly helpful."

"Well, it makes more sense than anything you two have come up with!" He busted out defensively. "Which, at the moment, is a big pile of nothing!"

The three of them remained there staring at one another, equal clueless-ness on each of their faces. Storm was the first one to break the silence, shaking her head and glancing down at her watch. "Well, I've got classes to teach in ten minutes." She looked towards Warren. "Do you feel all right?"

He faltered with the answer. "Um, yeah...I'm fine. Don't worry about me, really."

_He's so sweet._ But sweetness aside, he was lying, and clearly. A sharp pain seemed to be filling his eyes that Storm couldn't deny. It was at this moment that all of her wanted nothing more than to give her classes over to Logan (clearly a disaster, but certain measures had to be taken) and lay his head in her lap, soothing him into a painless sleep, stroking his head with her hands.

But obviously, that was not an option. She cleared her throat. "Sure?"

"Sure."

_He is such a liar..._

"All right then, I'm heading downstairs. I'll see you two at lunch." Painfully, she turned her back on him and walked leisurely out of the door, not moments after hearing Logan mumble something about having to clean his motorcycle and exit the room behind her. Guilt struck her hard. _He's in there all alone now._

Logan caught up to her briskly. "So now what?" He stamped out his cigarette while walking. "The kid can't remember a damn thing."

Storm looked at him, lips pursed. "You don't really think he just fell out of the sky, do you?"

"It's an option!" He shook his head. "We don't really have any others until bird-boy's amnesia clears up..."

She stopped and turned to face him. "This is most definitely something bad. I don't know who or why, but someone did this to him." She paused. "And I'm going to find out."

She walked on without him.

As she descended the stairs, she heard him laugh and say, "All right, Detective Monroe!"

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**A/N:** Hahaha, I told you stuff would happen. This was so much fun to write, and as you can see, things got a little steamy. A dream to write, literally. Next chapter will see a return to Warren's point of view, and the mystery will be solved of who exactly is responsible, and are they done with Warren yet? Wow, I seriously can't wait to write the next chapter. Review everyone, you will earn my deepest love. MWAH MWAH!!


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